Calm Amidst Chaos

I was walking along the quiet streets parallel to Taft Avenue. It was quiet save for the big drops of rain hitting the pavement. My steps were surprisingly light as I carried my backpack with my huge, HUGE textbook inside. I tucked my purse under one arm, held my old umbrella and began to give thanks - finally, some peace and quiet, away from the maddening crowd.

Earlier, I stepped out of the library and saw the dark sky looming over me. It had just begun raining. Hard. There was no use dodging the puddles; my feet and pants were soaking wet. I hoped against hope that when I reach the taxi stand there would be one waiting for me. No such luck. The queue stretched on.

I sighed and asked myself - now, what? Should I walk to the nearest train station? Risk my life by taking the pedicab? Join the crowd, scrambling to get to their homes, doing their best to zigzag through the confusion of pedestrians and umbrellas and sidewalk vendors and their makeshift tents? Subconsciously, I crossed the street, moved away from the mob and walked the road less traveled.

I knew there was no chance of me getting a cab from there. So I stopped worrying and concentrated on… walking. One foot ahead of the other. Right, left, right, left. Suddenly, I realized that I felt no anxiety, no worry. I did not wish to be some place else. I just kept moving. I thought of St. Paul who always chose to be happy despite the circumstances.

That was when I saw him, a man sitting on a wooden kariton. It looked like his home. He had an umbrella tucked in the gaps between plastic sheets that served as his roof. He was playing cards. Solitaire. He looked like he had no care in the world. He was content.

His demeanor stood out against what I have seen just minutes before. People carrying shopping bags and looking worried. They complained about the rain and the queue. Students hurried and ran after jeepneys. A boyfriend-girlfriend was walking more than a meter from each other. They didn’t have umbrellas. I knew from the looks on their faces that they were having a fight.

After a few more blocks, a quick jeepney ride, and another short stroll, I was home. My instinct was to whine just to let others know how hard it was to get here. I stopped myself, thanked God I reached home, and went straight to the bathroom to wash my feet.